We landedin the cold dawn mist on the rocky ground between Loch Etive and the Firth of Lorn. The sharp smell of salt and seaweed filled the air. Somewhere in the distance I could hear the crash of waves against an unseen shore. As we prepared for the attack and the mist began to clear, the castle emerged from the fog, crouched on its rock above the sea, exactly as Torin had described it — grey, ancient, Rannald’s villainous banners snapping in the wind.
I gulped, trying to keep my stomach calm. This was real, not some kind of movie. I was in an ATV about to be a soldier in a battle and I was untrained and untested. It was a reset for most of these men, but this was my first time.
One thing I hadn’t really thought about while trying to be all badass, is howsometimes… I folded under pressure —hard.
Hell, a nightmare gave me panic attacks.
Torin, had seen me at some pretty weak moments already, but hadn’t been expecting me to do much more than be a weak-ass Princess. But I didn’t want to let down Max. I didn’t want toembarrass myself in front of the Uncles, even though my feelings for them were complicated by the fact that they had been screwing around with my life for a while, apparently. I wanted to be useful, brave, courageous and necessary, to spite them in a way.
Though I forgave them and all that. But still.
Complicated.
I had to keep my shit together.
Uncle Charlie handed me the binoculars and a radio for my ear. “Okay, Alexandria, you’re my eyes. Call anything that moves on the walls. Clear voice, no panic.”
I nodded, with a dry throat and said, “Got it,” pressing the radio into my ear. “You heard about my panics?”
“Yep, was mentioned, we’ll have none of that, just call out the location. Me and you are going to be calm.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can do that.” I picked up the binoculars and pressed them to my eyes.
Ahead of usthe strike force roared across the heather on ATVs, with Torin behind them, his horse galloping across the moor, dust billowing behind him.God, please keep him safe. Please.Drones rose overhead — the music Thunderstruck playing so loud it was shocking, even from a distance, even though I had been to a concert before. Guitars screaming and wailing, incongruous as all hell. Through the binoculars I could see the guards on the battlements clutching their ears. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
If it hadn’t been so terrifying.
And then the drones began firing on the castle — bombs rained down on the main gate and the southwest tower.
My gaze kept returning to Torin.
He rode alone, just Cathbarr thundering beneath him, his claymore across his back, the navy coat snapping like a war banner.
He was heading straight for the gate, turned to rubble, exactly as he’d planned. A brave, beautiful, courageous idiot.
I loved him, needed to watch him to keep him alive, but I had to stop watching him. I had work to do, to keep him safe.
Ryan’s voice in my ear, “Second wave, go!”
Our ATV tore down the slope, to my left, Ryan and Max in one, to my right, more soldiers in another. I clutched the binoculars, and the bottom of my skirts in my lap, as we bounced over heather and rocks. Charlie said, “Ask Ryan if we’re still going to the southwest tower.”
I had to click the button twice to speak. “Ryan, still the southwest?—?”
“Affirmative, we’re headed to gate, you’re headed to southwest tower. Clear sight on the courtyard.”
I gripped the safety hold on the ATV as dust and wind whipped my face.
Ahead of us, Torin was already dismounting at the shattered entrance gate, his sword drawn, walking into the courtyard like he owned the place.
A ruinedtower came into view — a crumbling stone stump just beyond the outer wall, half-swallowed by ivy. The soldier skidded our ATV to a stop beside it. Charlie jumped from the vehicle, yelling, “Up!”
I scrambled to keep up, carrying some of the lighter gear, trying to competently hurdle the stone wall, dragging my skirts over behind me, and then climb the broken steps that spiraled inside.
My heart hammered by the time we made it to the tower’s top, on a jagged platform maybe fifteen feet up, open to the sky.
From here the courtyard spread below us like the map. Charlie dropped to one knee, drone controller in hand. He spoke into the radio: “Got eyes again. View of sally port — no Rannald, shadows thick. Torin’s pushing in.”
The courtyard was filled with smoke, muzzle flashes strobed, men were running and falling along the walls.
